The World Vision
by Picklesz
Summary: The world’s biggest, most popular, and most diverse band today! Featuring a popular American star, the lead singer of a British rock band, one of France’s should-be famous singers, an unnoticed Russian star, an Italian and German singing pair, and a Japanese and Chinese Utaite duet! What could go wrong? Teaching history and culture with music and style: the World Vision!
1. The Invitiation

**A/N** : So first Hetalia fic! I don't wanna tell y'all too much (I'm super excited to be finally releasing this story actually) but I got two terms just to make reading easier.

In case you don't know them, Niconico is a popular Japanese video sharing website and a utaite is a Japanese term for people who upload their covers to this website (they're usually covers of Vocaloid songs).

And that's it! Hope you enjoy Chapter One of the World Vision!

 **~O~**

"You did what?!"

Feliciano could be... an airhead, to put it lightly. And that was putting it very lightly. But of all the things he'd done, this was easily the worst.

"Please don't be mad!" Feliciano cried, waving his arms. "I just thought it'd be fun, and then we wouldn't have to work alone all the time! And then we'd have more friends! And... and..."

"You should've asked me before you agreed!" Ludwig said, but unfortunately, whenever he said things like that, it usually came out more like a shout and scared Feliciano. And this time was no different.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I just thought it'd be better, because you said it was really hard to work alone like we're doing, and then I thought if we worked with a band, it'd be easier..."

The almost pleading look in Feliciano's eyes made Ludwig feel guilty. He _had_ said that... maybe weeks ago, but he did say it... And even if Feliciano did the most outrageous, incredibly stupid things, he had meant well, in his own way. It almost always went wrong, but at least he tried.

"I thought it'd make you happy, so..." Feliciano was just rambling at this point: he didn't even notice the stare Ludwig was giving him. "I didn't mean to make you mad, I just wanted to... oh."

Feliciano finally noticed. He smiled nervously, not meeting his eyes.

"...Show me the email," Ludwig said. It, again, came out more like a command and made Feliciano visibly tense up, but at least it made him hurry. In less than a minute, the email was loaded up in record time.

He hoped it was one worth responding to.

 _\- Hello there, you two! I only discovered your songs recently, and I'm surprised by how good they are! They're seriously amazing!_

 _\- Not only that, but I also have an opportunity to offer you! I know you two work alone right now, so I'd like to give you a chance to work with a much bigger label! I'm starting a band and would love you for you two to be in it. An extremely unique band with people from all around the world! We would teach about history and culture in a fun, lighthearted way through our songs! You guys would have to move out of Italy, sorry, but I promise you, it'll be worth it!_

 _\- The band is called the World Vision! Email me back if you're interested._

 _~ Alfred F. Jones_

"We have to move out of the country?!" Ludwig asked, incredulous. This was the exact kind of thing Feliciano would decide to do without thinking, and the exact type of thing he was afraid he would do.

"W-Well, I didn't him that we were going to! Just that we were interested...!" Feliciano tensed up again, and even if Ludwig would've noticed, he probably wouldn't have cared. Joining a random band was bad enough, but one in different country?! That was out of the question. "But if we do it, I'm sure it'll be good! I looked him up and he's a popular singer and he's really good so I'm sure it'll all be fine!"

By "him", Ludwig assumed he meant whoever signed the email. This "Alfred F. Jones" person... What kind of person sent emails like this? He couldn't really expect people to move so far away just for a band... Well, maybe if it was close, it wouldn't be too bad... "Where does he live?"

"U-Um... America..."

"That far?!" That was on an entirely different continent! That was stretching it way too far. How did he expect people to want to do that? "Did you know that before you agreed?"

"I-I did! I looked him up and researched him and everything!" Feliciano's eyes suddenly sparkled. "He seems like a really good person! And his songs are great too! I know that it's a really far away but I think if we end up doing this, it'll all be fine!"

It'll all be fine... There was a multitude of things that could go wrong, and a lot of them could end in them being stranded in an unfamiliar place, but... maybe he was being too harsh on him. Maybe he had a point.

"...If you really want to... I guess we can look into it more," Ludwig said. He meant it to be a neutral response, but of course Feliciano took it too far and interpreted it as them actually doing it, from the overexcited smile on his face.

"Really? We're actually going to do it?!" Ludwig wanted to correct him and tell him that he didn't say anything close to that, but the naïve hope that radiated so clearly through his expression... it was hard to say no when he was like that.

"...Yeah, we can-"

"We can? Yay!" Feliciano's smile only grew even wider. "That's great, because I told him earlier that we could do it-"

"You told me that you only said we were interested."

"...Oh." His smile faltered under Ludwig's stare. "W-Well, um, now that you said we can do it, everything should be fine, right?"

Feliciano was really a handful sometimes.

 **~O~**

Not a moment after the door clicked close did Arthur want to collapse on the ground. Needless to say, the past few days in the studio had been... tedious, to say the least. Ever since his band had released that hit, it'd been stressful beyond belief. And not only because they had to deal with fame: no, his band had decided it could've only been one of them that had made the band successful. Arthur could barely do anything without hearing their arguing voices, and that included while they were trying to record songs.

What idiots.

He dropped his bag off near the door, where he always did. Despite all the madness going on with the band and recording, he had kept his apartment in order. It was a stress relief thing, really: it was the one thing he had control over. That, and he could barely live in a space that wasn't neat.

Living in madness was turning out to be his new reality, though... He didn't know if he could handle things going on like this. After only a week, he was seriously considering quitting. Sure, going on his own might be harder than having an entire band to back him up, but he didn't want any of their help if they continued on like this, and unfortunately, it seemed like it would.

He sighed, sitting down on his couch. He really didn't know what to do... It's not like he could just quit and expect everything to go alright. He was the lead singer and all, but that completely changed if he left the band. Then he was just him, lead singer of nothing. There would be people that would like him less just because he quit, and then there would be people that would like him less because his songs would sound different afterwards. If he quit, he was losing fans, period.

But he knew it wouldn't be long before he snapped, and then the band would be disbanded anyways. There was really no winning.

He took out his phone. Lately, it seemed the only positivity he could get was from fans, specifically of their most recent song. It was still trending on most social media, even if had been released over a week ago. His feed had been flooded with countless people expressing how much they liked it. He never responded to any of them, of course, but it really did make him happy to see that people enjoyed their songs.

It was probably the last one they would create.

A red dot flashed in the corner of the screen. He groaned. A PM. It was probably another of those weird fans that sent him some... _odd_ fan mail. He could be completely wrong, and it could be completely innocent, but if they were PMing him, they _probably_ didn't want the rest of the internet to see it... which meant some... bad things.

He would have to delete it if it was bad, and if it was good, then there was no problem reading it. So he clicked on it, hoping for the best.

 _\- Hey there! I gotta say, I just listened to your band's new song, and it was amazing! You're talented, really!_

 _\- Now, I also got an offer for you. I know you're already in a band, but I'm starting one of my own, with people all over the world! I know, it sounds really ambitious, but the band would be one of a kind! It's a band that would not only sound great, but teach about history and cultures from around the world! You would have to quit your band and move out of England, sorry about that, but I promise you, this band would be one of the most unique bands out there!_

 _\- The band's called the World Vision! PM me back if you're interested._

 _~ Alfred F. Jones_

...That was not what he expected.

This person — "Alfred F. Jones", it was — had probably just sent him the strangest PM he had ever received. And it wasn't the traditional strange, either: he sent a him message hoping he'd join a band that wasn't even created yet, with people he didn't know.

He looked up this Alfred person, and apparently he was some popular American singer, but he seriously thought that Arthur would quit his own band, join his, and move out of the country for it, too?

"What an idiot," Arthur muttered to himself. Yet... he found his fingers hovering over the keyboard, trying to find words to say. For such an ambitious, reckless offer, he found himself strangely drawn to it. Being in a band with entirely new people might be somewhat better than what he was doing new. And portraying history... it certainly did sound very interesting, maybe even a bit enjoyable. History had always been one of his better subjects, and, at times, sometimes even his favorite...

His band was probably going to fail in the next week anyways, and with the revenue he got from their most recent song, he would be able to afford to move and live off it for a while.

He found himself hitting reply within only a minute.

 _\- I'm interested._

 **~O~**

It got a little too lonely every time it snowed.

Ivan could usually handle living by himself. It's what he had spent the past few years doing, anyways. He ought to be used to it — he had lived in Russia his entire life, after all — but now that he had nobody to talk to... the frequent snowstorms made him feel more alone than he usually would. It reminded him that he was trapped in here until it passed, which, at times, could take days.

The one thing that eased the loneliness was the computer in his room. He always wondered how the power stayed on during intense blizzards like these, but now he was mostly just grateful that it did. If the power went out, that meant no computer. No contact, no internet...

More loneliness.

So he put aside his thoughts and logged on, wondering with a smile what awaited him this time. He hoped it had something to do with his songs. It always made his day whenever somebody liked them. He was fairly unrecognized, and considering that he was an independent singer, it was no surprise. But as long as he made some people happy, that made him happy, too.

Being an independent singer was fun, but... challenging. He was able to create whatever songs he wanted, whenever he wanted; as long as he could get to a studio, of course. Everything was completely, one-hundred percent his. And he liked it like that. The only time when it was a problem was when he ran out of ideas or he couldn't get to the studio — that he had to pay to rent, unfortunately though obviously — which was usually because of blizzards just like these.

He really hated not being able to do what he wanted, but at least he had the internet...

As soon as the computer logged on, a tiny notification caught his eye, right above the email icon. It'd been so long since someone emailed him that he didn't believe it at first. But no, someone had actually sent him a message.

Someone took the time out of their day to send him something... He smiled, though he didn't know what it said yet. Even if it's something mean or rude, at least they sent something to him. He couldn't remember the last time someone did that.

 _\- Hey dude! I just listened to your songs, and I gotta say, they're great! I'm surprised you aren't more famous yet!_

 _\- Considering that, I've got an offer for you! How would you like to be in a band? And not just any ordinary band, either! This one is with people from all over the world! The band is all about teaching history and culture, with some of the best singers from everywhere around the globe! You would have to move out of Russia, and I know it's a pretty long trip, but trust me, it'll be worth it! This band will be amazing!_

 _\- It's called the World Vision! Email me back if you're interested._

 _~ Alfred F. Jones_

So it was a good email after all.

The fact that whoever Alfred was chose him specifically for this band already made Ivan smile. He had thousands of other artists to choose from, all more popular than him, and he had chosen him, one of the lesser known ones. One of the ones somebody would never expect to be chosen.

And joining a band didn't sound too bad. Bands seemed fun to sing in. Getting to sing with more people, getting to know more people... it all around sounded much better than being alone. Alfred seemed nice enough. It should be fun making a new band, especially with other people from different places, too.

The whole idea was great, too. History and culture through songs? It was so unique compared to any other band he had heard of. He loved history, and he loved singing: combining the two together should be amazing.

The only problem seemed to be traveling. The email said he would have to move out of Russia... He didn't have any particular attachments, but moving out his country would be a big leap. And upon looking about Alfred's name and finding out he was an American singer, Ivan realized it was going to be an even bigger leap. America was so much different from Russia, and so far away...

But... he really did want to do this band. Being an independent singer was fun, but singing together with other people sounded even better.

He wouldn't have to be alone anymore.

He smiled as he sent back an agreement.

 _\- I think it sounds fun! I'll do it~_

 **~O~**

"Kiku! Come here and look at this!"

If Yao was already shouting within minutes of getting home, Kiku could only assume it was either very bad or extremely good. Unfortunately, it wasn't a fifty-fifty chance; more of a seventy-thirty chance, with the seventy on the bad side. If he asked, though, Yao would say that it was good either way. Their opinions on good and bad differed a little, to say the least. Or maybe Yao was just always manipulating him to play video games with him.

"It's good, I promise!" Yao said, which didn't reassure Kiku anymore, but Kiku went anyways. There, Yao was sitting in front of their computer desk with the tab open on Niconico. He pushed his chair backwards off the desk — which he liked to do a lot, since it rolled — and grinned.

"What is it?" Kiku asked, to which Yao just smiled even more.

"Just look at the computer!" Yao motioned towards it. Kiku gave up, and to his surprise, it was actually good. _Extremely_ good.

Although they both went to college, they had sort of a... Well, they were utaites. A duet. They'd be friends for as long as they could remember, and when the Vocaloid software came out, they both got into together. They loved the songs and how unique each one was.

They hadn't actually started making covers until this year, though they'd known they both loved Vocaloid and singing. Kiku couldn't remember what either of them had said to start this whole thing, but it's been fun to do, even if it was nerve-wracking at first.

Sebonzakura was maybe the third cover they did, and now... he was looking at a screen detailing its status. 50,000 views. Countless people had added to their lists. They had just uploaded it yesterday.

Turned out, it was finally the thirty percent this time.

"How did it..." Kiku couldn't even finish his thought. It just... Niconico was a popular site, for sure, but this should just be... impossible.

"I don't know, but it's amazing! You haven't even seen to comments yet." Yao pulled his chair back up to the desk. "They're all so positive! I have no idea how it happened, but we're basically the next viral video on Niconico, Kiku!"

Next viral video...?

"Well, not basically, we _are_." Yao clicked to the homepage, and there their cover was, in the top ten. "It's kind of... odd, seeing it there, isn't it?"

"...Yeah, a little bit." It was still all processing for Kiku. He had been struggling with "how" for a while now. He decided that if he ever found out one day, that'd be amazing, but he was probably never figuring it out.

"Hey, look at this," Yao said, shaking Kiku out of his thoughts. He looked back up to see they were on a completely different page now. A... message? "Someone PM'd us... And it's all in English..."

English? Niconico was completely in Japanese... Even if they used the English version, they had to have saw that their username was in Japanese... And they just covered a Japanese song...

 _\- Hello, you guys! I listened to your duet, and you two are amazing, seriously!_

 _\- That being said, I would like to propose you two an offer. I'm starting a band, with people all around the world! It's ambitious, I know, but the end result would be amazing! With people from all different places and cultures, we could create a band that not only sounds amazing, but one that teaches about cultures and history! Of course, you two would have to move out of Japan (I'm assuming), which can't be avoided, I'm sorry. But I promise you, this band will be good! This could be your big debut!_

 _\- It's called the World Vision! PM me back if you're interested._

 _~ Alfred F. Jones_

"...Lucky for him that we can read English," Yao said, still staring at the screen. Kiku didn't say anything: he had no idea how to respond to something like this. A band...? They would have to move out of Kyoto, quit college... give almost everything up.

And though their credits would still be kept, dropping out of college wouldn't be received well by anyone. They could come back one day, but if they moved out of the country... that would be highly unlikely. If this band failed, they would be stuck in another country with nothing to support them.

"Well, at least this isn't just some random person." Kiku looked back up at the screen, where Yao was circling with the mouse. "Alfred F. Jones" was, apparently, a popular American singer. So that diminished the chances of this band failing by a wide margin.

But still... if any of this went wrong...

"So, what do you think?" Yao asked, leaning back in his chair. Kiku looked back and forth from him to the screen. It really was an amazing opportunity... he loved singing much more than college, no matter how useful it was, and with Yao, it only made him love it even more... But leaving everything he knew...

"...I don't know," he confessed, staring at the ground. "It's a great opportunity, and it really does sound amazing, but... leaving here would be..."

"Well, we don't have to figure everything out right now. He only asked us if we're interested." Yao shrugged. "I think it sounds really great, too! I'm little apprehensive about leaving Japan also, but I think everything will work out in the end."

That's what Kiku liked about Yao: he was usually so optimistic about everything. It made him less nervous about this whole thing. If Yao wanted to do it, too, then it should be fine. They were both in it.

"I'll PM him back and say we're interested, okay? If you want to, that is." Yao grinned. "And _then_ , I'm going to beat your scores on Project Diva!"

Turned out, it had also been the seventy percent this time.

 **~O~**

Being a famous singer wasn't exactly the easiest thing in the world. You would be recognized everywhere you went, have to deal with fans, performances...

Well, to be honest, Francis wasn't really at that level yet.

His life was really nothing close to that. He didn't have a problem going anywhere, doing anything... and, well, famous wasn't the word to describe him, either. He didn't live what would be called a "famous" life — though he liked to think it sometimes — and the fact he had simply an apartment gave that away easily.

It wasn't that he was unpopular, and — at the risk of being called vain — he didn't think he was _completely_ unrecognizable, either. It was just a small percentage that would recognize him, however. He had enough fans that he wasn't obscure.

His fans, however, was more of a cult than anything. More often than not, people just ignored him and his music. Was there something different about his music than most singers? Most definitely, and it didn't attract most "normal" people, evidently. Chances were that if you asked a person on the street about him, you'd get a confused response. The people that _did_ like it were a very specific kind of person, and evidently pretty rare, too.

And it's not like he hated what he did, either. Singing was what he loved the most and did the best, and just because he didn't have the biggest fan base in the world — or even where he lived, in France, for that matter — didn't mean he didn't enjoy what he did. In a way, it made it more exciting: he still had a goal he was working for, and he wasn't stuck doing the same thing, as seemed to be the pattern with bigger signers. He liked being able to sing without restrictions.

It also meant no days off, which was why he was currently up at six in the morning to go in at seven... Well, he imposed that one on himself, so he couldn't blame that entirely on the job, but it was still the worst part.

It was precisely at that moment that a faint _ding_ distracted him. It wasn't often that that happened, and his hopes rose. Perhaps it was a fan? That was even more rare than just a notification, but every time it did happen, it felt just as good as the first time. It simply felt nice to be recognized even once in the world.

He glanced down at his phone, and sure enough, it was an email, specifically to the one her used for things such as this. He smiled. So it really was a fan. An ever-rare, but exceedingly appreciated fan.

It didn't take any second thoughts for him to open it.

 _\- Hey! How's it going? I just discovered your music recently and I love it! It's super unique!_

 _\- I also have a proposal for you! Would you like to join a band? It's not an ordinary band, either! I'm recruiting people from all over the world for it! The band's about history and culture, with some of best singers from all over the globe! It's ambitious, but it'd be one of the coolest and most unique bands out there! Of course, you would have to move out of France unfortunately, but trust me, it'll be worth it!_

 _\- The band's called the World Vision! Email me back if you're interested._

 _~ Alfred F. Jones_

...Well, it definitely wasn't what he expected. But it certainly wasn't unwelcome. Maybe a little out there, but not unwelcome. It wasn't every day you got an offer like this, after all, and much less one with unique premise.

In all honesty, it was a strange email to get. But, somehow, he didn't find it all that off-putting like some others would. It was more interesting than anything he could ever think to get — a band centered around history was unheard of — and probably anything he ever would. In fact, he found it more intriguing than odd, even if the idea was outlandish.

But... perhaps outlandish was a good thing. The monotony of his life was starting to get to him: he was doing the same thing every day, and it barely seemed like anything was coming out of it. Maybe it was time for a change, and a band didn't seem too bad... and somehow, one about history and culture seemed even better.

He quickly looked up the name in the email, just to verify this was all real, and found that it wasn't just some random person: Alfred F. Jones was apparently a popular singer over in the US. So he would be moving to America. Very different from France, but that was the point, wasn't it?

There was always that slim chance that the band could fail, or it would never even be formed, or be just a disaster in general, but he decided in that moment that he would rather take his chances.

Either way, he thought to himself as he hit the reply button, it was going to be very interesting.

 **~O~**

"Yeah! Five yeses!"

Alfred could barely describe the emotions he was feeling as he spun in his chair: excitement, relief, shock... well, especially shock. Some of those singers really had no reason to agree with him _at all_. He hadn't even known if two of them spoke English! Yet somehow, all of them had agreed to his crazy, somewhat ludicrous idea.

He didn't know what he was feeling, but it felt pretty damn good.

But, he supposed after the initial rush of emotion, he actually had to tell them how everything was going to play out. How he was going to get them all over to the US, how the band was actually going to work, and, well, how basically everything would work. It was... a little much.

But he could do it! They all could do it! He wasn't going to let his idea go to waste! He pulled himself back up to the computer and started writing once again. It was going to take a while — he had a lot to explain — but he still felt himself smiling as he typed it out.

This was gonna be so fun!


	2. International Meeting — Unite the Band!

A/N: **So uh... I have nothing to say for myself. I'm sorry!! This chapter was hard, and I procrastinated so much on it, I feel so guilty! This is all my work complied from over a year so you'll probably see some changes in the style of my writing... I've been writing other fics too, so I feel my writing has improved a lot. So at least that's good!**

 **Good news, now that I'm better, you guys definitely won't be waiting a year anymore. Three months at most, and that's if it's extreme! I'll try to be once a month, I promise!**

 **So, without further ado, here's chapter two! I hope you enjoy!**

 **~O~**

 _\- Hey guys! So, now that I know who's interested, I'm going to be explaining how everything's going to work! Don't worry, this still doesn't mean you're required to be in the band, but I certainly hope you'll still want to be._

 _\- So, I didn't really explain much when I sent the first email to you guys, just the simple stuff. I'll be going way more in depth now!  
_

 _\- To be honest, it's a bit more than just singing. It's an acting job too. Don't worry, it's nothing too serious! I wouldn't have you guys change your personalities or anything. It's more like adopting an "alternate identity" or a stage name, if you will. The most serious acting would maybe some talking, really._

 _\- But anyways! Before I scare you guys too much, I should actually tell you what the "alternate identity" is. It's how we would portray history and culture! How? By personifying our countries! We'd be portraying our history and culture by our thoughts and actions on the stage! Of course, our songs would be the main focus, but I don't want us to be totally secluded from each other either. After all, no country in history has ever been completely alone, and especially not today. Even our relationships with each other can represent our countries past together!_

 _\- That's all that you need to know about the band! On a more serious note, if you're still interested, email me back so I can arrange flights and visas. Don't worry about housing or anything, either! I have it all figured out already!_

 _\- I hope to see you all here in America!_

 _~ Alfred F. Jones_

 **~O~**

Today was the day!

It took a bunch of emailing back and forth, complications with time zones, various flight arrangements, and a whole lot more, but today was the day they all finally came in! And even more amazingly, they had _still_ all agreed! Alfred didn't know if there were just crazy or what — especially after he told them about the whole personifying countries bit — but either way, he was glad they apparently thought the same way as him.

And that wasn't even the hardest part. It was waiting at the airport for them! It was making him anxious, and he didn't usually get anxious, but he didn't know what any of them were like, or really anything besides their names. He was sure they were all nice people — they had all sent nice responses back to him, after all — but still... It wasn't the easiest thing in the world. He was pretty sure he had checked to make sure he was at the right terminal at least fifteen times by now, and last time that happened was... well, literally _never_.

He was currently sitting right in front of the first terminal exit, so that eased his anxieties a little bit. And besides that, he had everything he needed to do memorized! He knew the order they were coming in, where they were going to be... He even knew almost exactly what everybody — well, almost everybody — looked liked! So there was no way he was going to miss them.

And anyways, the first person in his order was Arthur Kirkland, and, well, it was going to be pretty hard *not* to see him. He stood out a lot, at least in Alfred's opinion. Messy blond hair, vibrant green eyes, kind of short... He was basically a British rock icon! And the fact that he'd subconsciously memorized Arthur over the years — okay, he was also _kind of_ a fan — made this even easier.

Needless to say, he was super excited! If only airports ran faster than this: they were supposed to be off at five o'clock and it was now two minutes past that! His schedule planned them all only ten minutes apart, and now that this was thrown in the mix... oh boy.

Luckily, it was as soon as he thought that that the door finally opened. It took a second, but sure enough, people were beginning to pour out of it. It was finally happening! All he had to do now was stay cool and watch for Arthur. And then he'd introduce himself, and then they'd probably shake hands or something, and it all would be super cool because oh _man_ this was actually happening! The band was happening!

Okay, he was definitely not staying cool. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling. Yeah, stay cool. Stay cool.

He looked up to the exit again. It had gotten tougher to see through the crowd, but other than that, he hadn't missed much. People were still pouring out of the exit, as a matter of fact. He scanned the crowd, just in case Arthur hadn't seen him, but luckily, he didn't seem to be out there. He looked back towards the exit.

And that's when he saw him.

Alfred didn't even fully register it before they locked eyes and suddenly it was all happening. He practically jumped out of his seat and almost ran forward before he realized that Arthur was already walking towards him, and he was also already way closer than Alfred had anticipated. He was pretty sure he didn't look cool at all, but somehow Arthur was actually smiling. Probably in greeting, but it still made Alfred feel a lot better.

Also, the fact that a British rock icon was smiling at him felt pretty good. Okay, it felt amazing.

"You're Alfred F. Jones, yes?" Arthur said, and Alfred so got lost in the real of it all — the _oh my god this is actually happening_ of it all — that he almost didn't say anything back. He nodded. Honestly, it was all kind of a blur, and he hoped he had actually said something and that it was cooler than "yeah," but luckily, Arthur didn't seem put off in slightest. He reached out a hand. "Arthur Kirkland. Pleasure to meet you."

This time, Alfred didn't hesitate when he took his hand, even though the excitement was threatening to overflow out of him. His dream was one step closer to coming true, and this handshake was the beginning of it!

It all felt so incredibly wonderful.

"What's next?" Arthur said, bringing Alfred back to the — not less wonderful! — reality of the airport. By then, most of the people had filtered out, leaving them as some of the few left, and the only in the front. He looked to the crowded intersections behind them.

"Well, we still have a lot of people to pick up." He turned back to Arthur. "You were the first one I picked up, actually! So we still have a lot to go."

"Really?" Arthur actually still sounded interested, which the simple fact of made Alfred even more excited than before. He honestly probably looked weird right now with all the grinning. "How many of us are there, exactly?"

"Eight! Well, that's including us, so we have six more to go." Alfred looked at the walkways once again. Still crowded, but with just enough space to finally fit more people. "And actually, the second person is arriving in just a few minutes! We should get going."

"Don't we have get my luggage first?" Arthur asked, looking at him a bit skeptically. Alfred actually forgot about that part, but luckily, he remembered what he had planned to stay on schedule.

"Don't worry! I've got it all taken care of," he said, putting his hands on his hips. Alfred would've winked after it too if Arthur didn't still look confused. He opted for a more normal explanation instead — it was probably a better idea in both situations anyways. "I have people picking it up for us, it's why I had you guys mark it. I knew we would be on a pretty tight schedule." Arthur nodded in understanding. He still looked a little confused — probably wondering why Alfred would pay for that — but Alfred didn't really mind it. He returned the smile to his face. "Speaking of, let's go!"

Ignoring all the people, they turned and made their way out of the terminal and into the mess of the walkways. It was a little bit of a pain pushing through the crowd, Alfred had to admit, but by the time they made it out of the area, it wasn't too bad. He could actually see everything around him and walk without running into anybody. And luckily, they had stayed right on course to the next terminal.

"So, where's everyone from?" Arthur asked once they could finally walk next to each other. Alfred had been hoping for that question for way too long, and probably came off as way too excited when he practically jumped and turned too quickly, but he didn't even regret it. He just started spilling everything out, even with the somewhat strange looks of the people around him.

"Well, the next person we're getting is from France!" He said, grinning. "And then there's Germany, Italy, Russia..." He started listing them off on his hands. "Oh, and China and Japan! We're really from everywhere, huh?"

He must've looked like an utter idiot then, holding up five fingers and smiling stupidly, but he didn't care, because somehow, that earned a smile from Arthur. And honestly, that feeling felt just as great as before.

"It's definitely earned it's name as the World Vision," Arthur remarked, a slight smile still on his face. Alfred didn't know a better feeling than this one. Everything just felt great, and everything just kept getting better. It was like he was floating on air and nothing could stop him!

Except for the sign for the next terminal, but he willingly stopped at that. For a good reason, too.

"We're here!" He said, glancing at the clock. And more to himself, he added, "and with a minute to spare. Nice." Realizing how weird he sounded, he shut up and resigned himself to looking around the terminal.

There actually wasn't as many people as he had expected — especially considering the time in the afternoon — so he quickly took advantage of it, rushing to the front. He didn't even check to see if Arthur was following him, which was probably a pretty stupid thing not to do in hindsight, but it was fine because they still ended up right next to each other.

"Who are we getting?" Arthur asked, and it was then Alfred realized while he had told him the country of origin, he hadn't actually said a name. He wasn't really that surprised that he hadn't got to that, considering how much he'd been jumping around both in his explanation and literally, but he didn't have any time to tell him as the terminal doors opened. He settled on a smile and a wink instead, looking back towards him for a second.

"You'll see!" He said, turning back eagerly towards the open gates. In all honesty, it was probably the cheesiest thing he could've done in that situation, but by now, he didn't even care how weird or stupid he looked. What was more important was the band! He returned to scanning the crowd, bouncing in spot.

Just like Arthur, Francis wasn't that hard to recognize either. They both had a very distinct look about them, though they were very different in the way they stuck out. Alfred had also spent a ton of time memorizing what he looked like, so it was pretty easy to find him. Or should be. Reality was, it was taking a while, which was probably just a few seconds stretched out in his head, but it was agonizing all the same. He felt like he had watched so many file out already that he was worried Francis might not have shown up.

Of course, that was wrong, because the very next second Alfred saw him.

He almost jumped up and down and waved but he decided just waving would be much easier, and jumping was kind of unnecessary, and just like before, Francis was already walking over. He had kind of hoped to be the one to introduce himself this time, seeing as Arthur had literally just done the exact same thing, but that didn't matter! He smiled as Francis grew nearer, hoping it wasn't too excessive.

"You're Alfred F. Jones, I presume?" Francis said, and just like before, Alfred was almost too starstruck to do anything. He nodded, quicker than last time, and Francis extended hand. "Well then, I'm Francis Bonnefoy. Nice to meet to."

Alfred quickly accepted the handshake. He still couldn't believe how well this was all going, so much so that he almost entered a surreal trance again. It was only the end of the handshake that jolted him out, the sudden lack of touch acting as a reality check. He was seriously going to end up missing something soon. He just knew it.

"And you are?" Francis asked, turning to Arthur. Alfred kinda — okay, totally — forgot that Arthur was even there, which was pretty bad. He probably should've introduced both of them at the same time, so it'd actually make sense what's going on and he'd seem competent, but it was too late now.

"Arthur Kirkland," Arthur said, and they shook hands, and Alfred could still barely believe it, but he probably should've been used to it by now. If he did this every time he'd be screwed. He put himself back into reality.

"Pleasure to meet you too." Francis turned back to Alfred, smiling (it was almost a smirk, in Alfred's opinion). "Where to next?"

"We have more people to get!" Alfred exclaimed. "To be honest, we should probably go right now. A-And don't worry about your bags," he added hastily, learning from his past mistakes. "It's all taken care of."

Francis just retained his smile — seriously, Alfred was surprised he wasn't confused like Arthur — and motioned towards the walkways. "Well, then, lead the way."

Alfred did just that, perhaps too eagerly as he almost lost himself in the crowd, but once again they made it out fine. It felt a strange now that it was the three of them and not the two of them, but he'd figured it'd get better once it was the five of them in a few minutes. He was a *pro* in big group settings. Seriously, it was one of the reasons he made the band so big. That, and the fact he also wanted to make the band really diverse.

They made it to the next terminal just fine, and surprisingly with no questions either. Alfred was kind of shocked, considering he really hadn't told either of them who they were getting, but they probably assumed he was going to tell them as soon as they got there. Which he _was_ going to do when he got interrupted by a person flying towards them.

The next person — well, the next two people they were picking up were actually a duet. One of the duets. And there was one of them coming towards them right now, if his memory served correct: Feliciano Vargas.

"You're Alfred F. Jones, right?!" Feliciano said, bouncing up and down in spot. Alfred couldn't believe that somehow, Feliciano was even more excited than he was. "I'm so happy to finally meet you! I've spent so long waiting for today to actually come and it took forever but now we're here!" He turned to the other two, who looked — not surprisingly — extremely confused. "Are you two part of the band too? Because if you are-"

"Feliciano."

And there was the other of the duet. Feliciano stopped his ramblings and looked behind him, smiling almost sheepishly.

"I guess I need to slow down, huh?" Feliciano turned back to Alfred. "And I never properly introduced myself! I'm Feliciano Vargas, but you probably already knew that. Nice to meet you!"

They shook hands — as was becoming custom as this airport, apparently — and Feliciano ran off to introduce himself to the other two. Alfred found himself smiling from the overexcitement: it was contagious, even if he was overexcited already.

"I'm sorry about my friend," Ludwig said, bringing Alfred back to right in front of him. "He's usually like that."

"Oh no, it's fine!" Alfred said. "I'm like that sometimes too." Ludwig gave him a strange look. "Well, um, not in a bad way. Not that it is bad! A-Anyways—" he stuck out his hand "—I'm Alfred F. Jones! Nice to meet you!"

He felt a weird sense of proudness flood through him at finally being able to introduce himself first.

"Ludwig Beilschmidt." They shook hands, and not even a second later Feliciano was back, with just as much excitement as before.

"Where are we going next? We're getting more people, right?" Feliciano said, just noticeably bouncing in spot once again. Alfred — almost — followed along subconsciously.

"Yup! We're going right now, as a matter of fact!" Alfred said. To be honest, it was more of a judgement call than something he planned out second by second, but it was fun making it seem like it was. "And don't worry about your stuff or anything, I've got it all taken care of." He walked forward. "Follow me!"

Just like every time, the initial walkway traffic wasn't the best, but they all made it out together with only a few moments Alfred was scared he might've lost them. It seemed that as it got later and later, the airport was actually clearing up, despite that it usually did the opposite in the afternoons. He was both surprised and pleased even though they were almost done here too.

"So," Feliciano said, suddenly walking next to him, "who are we getting next? Where are they from?"

"Russia!" Alfred said, regretting a little how fast he answered that. "We're not far now, so we'll get to meet them soon!"

Feliciano seemed content with that answered and just smiled and walked along. Alfred was kind of glad he hadn't asked more: he was starting to like his accidental tradition of not telling anyone's name before they met them. And luckily, nobody else had asked when they got to the terminal either.

Finding Ivan wasn't going to be hard, Alfred had thought, especially since Ivan was taller than him, which should've made him stand out even more than he himself did (which honestly, wasn't even that much considering he was average American height). But maybe, he was just bad at looking for people, since somehow, Ivan had snuck up next to him and almost made him have a heart attack when he finally noticed him.

"Hello," Ivan said, with a disarming smile like he hadn't almost just killed him (okay, maybe he was exaggerating). "You must be Alfred F. Jones."

"Yeah," Alfred said, hoping he didn't sound totally disinterested recording from almost being scared to death. He stood up straight, composing himself. "Then you must be Ivan Braginski." He smiled right back. Ivan extended a hand.

"Well then, technically we already know each other, but it's nice to finally meet you in person." They shook hands. Ivan looked behind Alfred. "You've amassed quite a crowd."

"Oh yeah, they're in the band too." Alfred looked too, realizing for he first time what it was really like to have these people in the same spot for the first time. "I didn't really realize how many people I invited, to be honest..."

"That's fine. I like being surrounded by lots of people." Ivan smiled again. "I can't wait to meet them."

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Alfred gestured behind them, an almost grin coming to his face. "They're here to meet you too! Go, meet them!"

"Really?" Alfred nodded. An almost childlike enthusiasm seemed to light in his eyes. "I think I'll do just that, then." He waved a brief goodbye. "I'll be sure to come right back."

Alfred gave a quick, send-off salute. "Of course! Now, go!'

Alfred smiled as Ivan walked away, feeling as if that could've not gone any better. Only one more terminal to go, two more people left... He couldn't help feeling like he was on cloud nine as this point. He sounded like a broken record, but it was true. Way too true.

"Hello again." Alfred nearly jumped as Ivan had somehow snuck up on him yet again, smiling. "I said I'd come back."

"Yeah, uh, I remembered that..." He looked at the clock: apparently, he really didn't know how to keep time. Or how to not get scared every time this happened. "Uh, anyways, we should get going. We have one more stop to make!"

"More people? You really did invite a lot."

"Yeah, they're the last two!" Alfred smiled; it probably looked really awkward, but he bet most things he did looked about the same. "Don't worry about your stuff or anything, it's all taken care of. In a good way, it's safe," he quickly added after Ivan shot him a strange look — or at least, he swore he did, but he was back to smiling now. He walked back into the walkways. "Let's go!"

He made his way out to the last station, feeling a sense of pride in leading them all, even if it was just to another terminal. The last one! It was exciting, though walking wasn't anything special.

"Where are they from?" Ivan asked, suddenly right next to him again. This time, though, Alfred was expecting it and finally wasn't jumping out his skin when it happened.

"China and Japan!" Alfred said, clapping his hands together. "It was a really far stretch to get them here, to be honest. And they must be really tired." He realized he hadn't entirely thought that one through, but it wasn't his fault Japan was so far away (well, to be honest, he hadn't thought about the flight length much, just arrival time, so that was his mistake).

"It's a thirteen hour flight from there to here, yeah?" Alfred was a little confused as to how Ivan knew that, but Ivan continued before he could say anything. "Mine was only eight, so they must really be exhausted."

"How do you..." He gave up mid-sentence. Even he hadn't known that, and as to why Ivan knew... well, it was probably better not to ask. "A-And yours was *only* eight?"

"Yes. Eight hours from Russia to here." Ivan smiled. Alfred was more focusing on the "only" part of the sentence and why that was apparently a short amount of time — geez, wouldn't _he_ be tired too? — but he wouldn't get to find out as they made it to the last terminal.

"Oh, we're here!" He knew he sounded kind of lame, but his mind had already switched to "search" mode. He took a few steps inside and realized he was, again, somewhat late to the flight arriving. In hindsight, he might've placed them too close together, but at this point, it didn't matter. He almost rushed inside before realizing that, well... he really didn't know who he was looking for.

When he had said earlier he had memorized _almost_ everyone's faces, he really meant that he had no clue what the last two people looked like. It was about the only thing he didn't know. It'd been hard communicating with them, as they had a thirteen hour time difference, and it turned out attaching and sending images was pretty much impossible. Alfred had pictures of himself all over the internet, so they knew what he looked like, at least. As for him finding them, well... all he knew were their names.

It was a start, to say the least. He was just hoping that they'd find him first and he wouldn't have to look around blindly for them.

He took a step inside the terminal, scanning the crowd like he usually did. Really, it could be any one of them, and the fact that no one had come up to him yet was scaring him. Fortunately, his luck seemed to have not run out just yet, as when he turned back to start searching again, he saw two people making their way towards him. He smiled. They were right on cue. And luckily, before he could start even doubting if it was actually them, they waved back at him.

By terms of looks, they didn't stand out much: at least, not in the super obvious way that Alfred did. What Alfred did notice was the feeling they gave off, the surprisingly calm and relaxed atmosphere after have — apparently — been on a plane for thirteen hours. Sure, they were kinda short and could easily blend in, but that's only if you weren't looking.

And how could he not: they marked the end of their journey!

He noticed they were already fairly close, so he rushed forward to give them what he now — or at least _should_ — called his customary greeting. Without even thinking about it, he grinned, waving once again.

"Heya! You're the last ones, right?" Okay, that was a little different than his customary greeting, but nonetheless. He didn't wait for their nod before continuing. "I'm Alfred F. Jones! And you two?"

They looked at each other, and Alfred considered he might've scared them, before one talked. "Kiku Honda," the shorter one said, bowing. And he was probably going to say something else too, before Alfred — accidentally — cut him off.

"Oh, no need for formalities," Alfred said, a sheepish smile on his face. Kiku looked up at him, almost confused, before Alfred extended a hand. "Handshake?"

Kiku paused, looked between them, before nodding and smiling, extending a hand. "Of course." They shook. Alfred turned to the other, and almost as if sensing what he was going to say, Kiku turned and shook the other's arm. "Yao."

"Huh? What? I was awake," Yao said, shooting Kiku a glare. "You didn't have to do that."

"...Don't be rude," Kiku said. They stared at each other before Kiku (subtly) pointed to Alfred.

"Oh!" Realization seemed to dawn on Yao. Kiku gave Alfred an embarrassed smile as Yao introduced himself. "Yao Wang. Sorry to keep you waiting."

They shook hands. Yao immediately turned back to Kiku and started saying something Alfred couldn't understand (he guessed it was Japanese). Kiku gave Alfred another apologetic smile.

"He's being difficult right now," Kiku said, and Yao started talking even faster. Kiku didn't even turn to him and kept talking to Alfred. "I'm guessing we are the last ones?" He said, nodding towards the others behind Alfred.

"Oh, yeah. You should go meet them!" Alfred took a step to the side to let them through. Kiku nodded at him, turned to Yao and probably said something along the lines of "let's go" (Alfred didn't know Japanese!) and walked forwards. Yao stood there for a second, shocked, before immediately catching up to him.

"You didn't listen to me that whole time?!" Yao exclaimed, before they disappeared into the crowd. Alfred chuckled to himself. He knew already that this would be a good band.

Once they got back, Alfred gave them the usual run down — the one about the luggage and everything — before the whole group, finally, made their way out of the airport. Alfred couldn't help but feel more and more excited as the closer they drew to the exit. A grin grew on his face, and as they rushed out the exit, feeling the fresh air on their faces, Alfred couldn't help but throw his hands up in the air.

"Welcome to America!"

 **~O~**

Alfred practically threw himself on his couch, sighing contently. Everything has gone well from the airport back, although with some... obvious surprises that he should've seen coming.

He had mentioned to them that he had living arrangements figured out, but he hadn't exactly said what and nobody had asked. Imagine their surprise as they realized that it was kind of a mansion with rooms for all of them.

Yeah, Alfred might've gone a little overboard with preparations... but in his defense, he didn't actually spend anything on it! His family had already had it... and anyways, he probably could've paid for it.

Nonetheless, after that, it was a little weird showing them to their rooms, and then awkwardly realizing all of them were probably either a) culture shocked or b) jet lagged and he had to care for that. So he told them he'd been downstairs if they needed anything, right next to the kitchen. Which was why he was now sleeping on the couch instead of in his room... oh well. It was all for the greater good, the _band_ , right?

At least his couch was comfortable.


	3. Jet Lag

A/N: **So I meant to update this like... in February, but that's not how writing works, is it?? Well, here I am, still updating! At least it wasn't a year this time... I really would've hated myself.**

 **Anyways, I have some good news. I'm writing this fic for Camp NaNoWriMo! I set a goal of 25,000 words, so we should get at least a few chapters out of that, right? And, um, I live in Michigan, so... I don't exactly have anything to do for a while, heh.**

 **Well, here's the next chapter! It's kinda short (realized that from re-reading it lol), but still, I hope you enjoy!**

 **~O~**

It was still night in America. But ten AM in England. Arthur hated jet lag.

To be fair, this was indirectly his fault. He had said yes to this idea and was now actually living out his promise. It still sucked when he woke up confused on whether he should be up or not, because not even the darkness was helping him, and every time he checked the clock it was still six in the morning.

He didn't want to bother anyone (not that he even knew where to go) but this stupid jet lag was preventing him from doing anything other than staring at the wall, wishing he was asleep.

It felt like hours had passed, but when he checked the clock it was only five minutes later. He was somehow tired yet awake, and it was honestly terrible. He felt like some kind of insomniac, driving himself insane.

When ages passed — it was really only eight AM — he finally decided, screw it, there was nothing else left to do but give up and go do... something. Whatever Alfred told them to do. Go downstairs? He almost felt awkward thinking about it, but there was really no other option here... besides maybe drive himself further insane.

He got himself changed (he didn't want to look like an absolute mess) and headed downstairs. He vaguely remembered the layout of the house; luckily, he found where he was supposed to be rather quickly.

Or, at least, he assumed it was, since there was already two other people there.

It was easy to recognize them (in all honesty, all of them were easy to recognize). Of course, one of them was Alfred, because, well, it was his house and he wasn't jet lagged and he said something about helping them. But the other was someone he had met yesterday — well obviously, he had met them all yesterday... but it was the one he remembered the most. The first one he had met.

The one who he had, admittedly, known a bit about beforehand.

His name was Francis. He had discovered his work about a year ago, and even with his limited knowledge in French, he had still enjoyed his songs (well, some of his songs were in English, too, and the rest had translations, but that's besides the point). He'd been shocked when he saw him yesterday, but he kept a pretty straight face, or at least he hoped so. The fact such a small artist that Arthur had actually heard about, no less, had shown up coincidentally yesterday surprised him.

He was pretty sure this was one of the weirdest twists of fate, and even more certain that Francis had no idea who he was. He was probably experiencing this strangeness alone.

And, you know, that was probably for the best.

They both turned to look at him, and he felt the most awkward and self-conscious that he had felt in years, probably since high school. You know when you walk into class late and everyone turns and stares at you and you get the feeling you're horribly out of place and you wish you could disappear? It was that. He really did wish he could disappear. But that only lasted for moment, disappearing when Alfred smiled at him.

"Hi!" Alfred said, as overenthusiastic as Arthur had gotten to realize him as the past day. But it didn't bother him. It was actually a bit welcome, considering how out of it and tired Arthur was. "You made it down alright! How are you feeling?"

Arthur found himself almost smiling at the hospitality, something he hadn't been doing recently until yesterday. Maybe there was something besides jet lag to this day after all. "Tired, but that was to be expected," he said. Alfred grinned again.

"Well, I'm glad it's just that." Alfred motioned to the island in front of him — oh yeah, his kitchen/dining room area was kind of nice, considering he was a nineteen year old kid! — which has the chairs across from him. "Come, sit! You don't need to stand there all day."

Again, hospitality. He really hadn't been expecting it with how hectic it had been with his old band — he didn't even want to think about the rough disband that occurred when he had told them — but he supposed any less wouldn't be polite. He sat, and then realized he was now sitting right next who he had actually freaked out over a bit when he had walked in. Said person also smiled at him, and he was, actually, surprisingly, caught off-guard. He hoped it didn't show on his face.

"So? You hungry or anything?" Alfred said with impeccable timing. Really, any longer and Arthur would've made a show of himself. He shook his head: jet lag had really taken his appetite from him. Alfred frowned. "Well, you should at least drink something! Wait" — Alfred turned around, went into the fridge, and pulled a water bottle out — "here! Don't want you to get dehydrated or anything."

Alfred slid the water across the table to him. He caught it before it dropped off the counter and he made even further a fool of himself. "Thanks," he said. He looked at the bottle, all of a sudden feeling incredibly awkward and like he was taking advantage of his hospitality. Just how much money was Alfred spending on them anyways? First planes, visas, and now this... he almost felt embarrassed.

"You're really sure you don't need anything? I mean, I'm the one who started all this anyways," Alfred continued. He smiled sheepishly. "I seriously don't mind, I bought all this food for you guys, you know..."

"No, no, I'm fine..." Arthur was actually getting embarrassed from all of Alfred's insisting. It was like Alfred was too nice for his own good. Arthur wasn't used to people being like that. "Don't worry about me."

"Well, if you say so." Alfred looked almost disappointed for a second before he put a grin back on his face. "I'm gonna check the pantry anyways. See ya!"

Alfred was gone around the corner before Arthur could say anything. It was probably for the better because he didn't know what he was going to say anyways, but now, he was alone. Well, alone with someone. Alone with the person he had an embarrassing mini freak-out over. Which meant they were probably going to talk to each other.

Honestly, the only reason Arthur was fine talking to Alfred was because they weren't technically alone. In reality, he had this thing about talking to people one-on-one... he just wasn't that good at it, and, well, it made him sort of anxious. He was only fine in the airport because they were surrounded by people!

And he didn't worry about impressing Alfred — well, he didn't worry about impressing Francis either, it was just... different, when he already knew him through music. He was better talking to strangers than people he knew. Or barely knew, in Francis' case.

God, how awkward this was going to be.

"He's excited," Francis said. Arthur almost jumped out of his skin: it was the first thing Francis had actually said and he was not expecting it. He hoped he looked calm, but he knew his face betrayed him the second Francis looked over at him and gave him a teasing smile. "I believe we met yesterday, no? Arthur Kirkland."

Arthur, in fact, remembered vividly the shock of seeing who the person from France was, but he kept that to himself. "Yes. We did."

"I remember you. You were the singer of a British rock band, correct?" Arthur, this time, was completely stunned, and completely sure it showed on his face. Francis just kept looking at him with that smile.

"How did you...?" It was all he could muster out. Francis chuckled.

"I could tell by your accent." Francis winked at him. Arthur kept staring, unable to come up with words. Eventually, though, the smirk disappeared off Francis' face and turned into just a smile. "Actually, I knew your music before this. I guess I was a fan."

This time, Arthur was stunned into a different type of silence. It really turned out he wasn't the only one who was probably feeling awkward about that. What a coincidence that was. "Well... I guess you could say the same of me," he confessed, averting his eyes to the water bottle in his hands. "I knew your music too."

They sat in a silence. It wasn't awkward; it was almost warm, comfortable. But it only lasted for a few seconds as Alfred's voice cut through it.

"Hey, I knew Arthur too!" he said. "I guess we all knew each other then, huh?"

They all stared at each other. What a strange coincidence. And what a strange conversation they were having.

Though... Arthur didn't really mind any of it. And that was a first in a long time.

 **~0~**

It was harder to get used to being with others than Ivan thought.

When he woke up, he thought he was still alone back at his house in Russia. And then, after seeing his surroundings, he thought he was kidnapped. It took him a full minute to realize he was in America: he wasn't alone anymore. And that thought filled him with both indescribable joy and unpleasant fear.

It was odd, not being alone anymore. This was what he had wanted, and been so looking forward for, that actually being here... he didn't know what to do. What should he do? A dream had become a reality, and in there, he realized that he had jumped from being completely alone to living with seven other people. He had probably never had that many friends in his life. How could he handle this now?

But, he supposed after mulling over it for a while, there was nothing else that he could do other than live with it. Figuratively and literally. He had no other option than to meet them and be friends with them. Friends.

He smiled. He was more than doubling his amount of friends: what did he have to be scared about? They were all there for the same reason as him, weren't they? He hadn't been scared yesterday, and he shouldn't be scared now.

So he decided to go downstairs, make friends... and maybe eat. It was noon, after all. He was surprised that he hadn't woken up given how late it was in Russia right now, but maybe he had just been so exhausted it hadn't mattered. Having less jet lag was always good, he figured. Might as well just be happy he had gotten off easy.

He walked down the stairs, faintly remembering the layout of the place after Alfred's impromptu tour last night. Just walk forward after the stairs and... just as Alfred had said, there he was, in the kitchen. He hadn't even noticed Ivan's presence yet. Ivan smiled to himself. He decided to let his presence be known.

"Hello," he said, and Alfred nearly jumped out of his seat. Ivan chuckled, remembering how easily he had — accidentally — scared Alfred yesterday, and how obviously Alfred had tried to cover it up. Alfred seemed to be doing the same right now, straightening himself up in his seat.

"Oh, hi," he said, the shock still very much evident in his voice. Ivan smiled wider. They stared at each other for a few seconds before Alfred cleared his throat. "Uh, why don't you sit down? I can get you something to eat."

"That would be nice." He sat down in the seat directly across from Alfred's. "You look frightened," he said, half to make conversation and half just to see how Alfred would respond. Alfred looked surprised that he even mentioned it.

"Y-Yeah, well, you're really silent when you move, and I didn't even hear you there, so..." Alfred averted his eyes. He quickly changed the subject (much to Ivan's amusement). "Food?"

"Sure." They both stood up at the same time, and then both froze and stared at each other. He knew Alfred did say he was taking care of everything, but still, Ivan didn't want to sit there and feel useless. Alfred, however, beat him to the punch.

"You really don't have to do anything," he said, a small smile on his face. He motioned for him to sit back down. "Seriously. You're my guest."

Ivan was still surprised. He had lived alone for so many years now, he forgot what hospitality felt like. He supposed it would be fine this one time. "Alright." He sat back down. "I can help, though."

"No, and that's final." Alfred pointed at him, as if that would make him stay there. "You all just came from halfway across the world. I think you deserve some rest. And this was my idea, anyways. It's the least I can do for you guys."

Alfred didn't wait for a response before he turned around and opened the fridge behind him. Ivan smiled to himself: he didn't expect this from the trip.

"What do you want?" Alfred asked, his cheeriness back. "I doubt I have that good of food compared to Russia, but it's something."

And there's where Ivan realized something: he barely even ate in general back home, and lunch was definitely not the meal he ate the most. He didn't remember the last time he had a real lunch (or any real meal). He wasn't one to put much time into them if it was only for himself, so, as strange as it was, he had no idea how to respond to this simple question.

"The easiest thing for you to make," he eventually said, almost embarrassed at himself. He stared at the table. "I did not eat much back home, so anything you make will be fine..."

"Well, sandwich it is!" Alfred took some various vegetables and meats out of the fridge. "Sorry if it's not the most elaborate. I don't really do much either in terms of food."

"I did tell you anything." Really, Ivan was just glad that Alfred was willing to do this for them. Alfred turned around with some of the various ingredients in his hands, probably to ask something, but Ivan answered it before he could say anything. "And I mean anything. I will not mind anything you make."

Alfred stared for a moment, before shrugging and smiling again. "Okay! Anything you say." He went to turn around again, but stopped himself mid-turn and looked back at Ivan. "Oh, um, sorry if this is a weird question, but is my house cold or something?"

Ivan blanked for a second, confused. "I do not think so, why?"

"Well, you have both a coat and a scarf on, so..." Alfred looked away, turning back to where he was originally going. "I was worried."

"Oh." Ivan could see how that would make anyone assume he was cold. He usually was, actually, but not because of temperature. He really felt the same in any condition, sun or snow. "I wear this all the time. You do not need to worry."

"Good. I don't want anyone to be uncomfortable or anything." Alfred turned and beamed at him. "You're the most important guests, right?"

Ivan smiled. "Right."

It really did feel right. And he didn't feel so alone anymore.

 **~O~**

Yao hadn't responded to any of his texts. And that was a problem.

Usually whenever Kiku texted him, he'd respond in one minute or less. And now, he had texted him at least five times in the last twenty minutes and had gotten no response. No response from Yao, of all people.

And they had made an impromptu plan yesterday when they got here. They were both going to go and eat dinner together around five PM. Yao almost never forgot their plans: the last time he had done that was years ago, in high school, even.

Unfortunately, with no response, he estimated that it was an eighty percent chance that Yao was still sleeping. He doubted Yao would go by himself: he stuck to everything they planned, and plus, Yao would wake him up if he hadn't been awake yet. And he had to have left his phone and been down there for twenty minutes. It was simply improbable.

He would probably have to go by himself. Unlike Yao, he couldn't bring himself to wake his friend up, especially with how tired he had seemed yesterday, despite his refusal to admit it. Yao hadn't slept their entire thirteen hour plane ride, as far as he knew, and while planes were uncomfortable, he had a feeling the PSP version of Project Diva was more to blame... Whatever it was, he still didn't want to bother him. He would feel unbearably guilty afterwards.

So he would have to go alone. Either that, or he hoped for the twenty percent...

He sent Yao one last text (which he was sure would go unanswered, but he hoped anyways) before admitting defeat and walking out of his room. He would have to deal with being alone — or rather, alone with near strangers — just this once. It might be awkward, but he has dealt with worse. At least, he hoped he had. He should be fine either way. Right?

He was still hoping, by some miracle of chance, that Yao was down there. That was proven instantly wrong when he arrived to two people, neither of which were Yao, and the smell of cooking pasta.

One of them was, obviously, the person who orchestrated the plan and started the whole thing. Alfred had told them yesterday what do, so Kiku had been expecting that. What he hadn't expected was anybody else, which, considering the time, was a rather foolish assumption. And now, he didn't know how to respond.

Maybe the only solace in this situation was the fact he remembered the other person's face and name: Feliciano. It was a miracle he did, considering how tired he had been after a thirteen hour flight, but maybe that was because out of all the people they had been introduced to, Feliciano was easily the most energetic out of all of them. He didn't understand how that was possible, but he figured that maybe some people dealt with jet lag better than others. Kiku was definitely not one of them.

"Heya!" Alfred said, snapping Kiku out of his self-reflecting awkwardness. Alfred waved him over. "No need to stand there. Come, sit!"

Kiku just found himself nodding dumbly and sitting where Alfred motioned him to. He almost felt overwhelmed already — the positivity radiated off Alfred like hyperactive sunbeams — but he told himself it really couldn't be that bad. He did want to eat, and though it wasn't exactly in his nature to socialize, really, he didn't want to sit in a room and feel useless, either.

He still didn't know what to say to anyone, but, as evidenced earlier, maybe that would take care of itself. And the pasta smelled surprisingly good: it helped him forget about his social awkwardness.

"It's almost done," Alfred said, putting a spoon in the pot. Kiku watched as the steam rose to the ceiling and spread out into a circle. "Wanna try a noodle?"

He almost wanted to say yes with how hungry he was becoming, but he shook his head no. Alfred shrugged, smiled, and returned to the pot. Maybe he didn't mind him not talking. Kiku really hoped so.

"He didn't even let me help him." Kiku looked over at the sound of Feliciano talking. "I suggested it and he didn't let me help! That's rude, don't you think?"

Feliciano was nearly pouting, which Kiku found both confusing and amusing. He didn't get time to say anything back (not that he would've found the words to say anyways) as Alfred interrupted him/saved him from talking.

"You're a guest! I'm not gonna make you do anything." Alfred pointed the spoon at them. "Especially not today, you're probably tired."

"I'm not, I promise!" Feliciano protested, but Alfred just turned back without saying anything. Feliciano frowned. "That's so mean, isn't it? I just wanna help!"

Kiku stared blankly, unsure of how to respond. Feliciano seemed to notice, however, as he quickly brightened up and changed the subject. "You're the last person we met yesterday, right?" Feliciano said. "That's so cool! You're from Japan, right? You came so far, I was only a few hours away. Hey, didn't you have somebody else with you too?"

Kiku, nearly blindsided with all the talking, latched on to the last question (the only one he could remember). "Y-Yes, but, um... he's still sleeping." Probably.

"Oh, that's fine! I came with someone else too, but I haven't seen him all day either." Kiku remembered one other person that had been standing next to Feliciano at the airport; he figured that was the person he was talking about. Kiku didn't remember that person's name, though. He was glad it was Feliciano down here and not him. "But he's probably fine, I mean, he practically takes care of me sometimes!"

At that, Alfred interrupted. "Um, I haven't seen him all day..." Alfred then looked at Kiku. "Or your friend, either."

"What? He wouldn't do that!" Feliciano's smiled faded, his eyes widenening. "That means he hasn't eaten all day!" Feliciano turned to Kiku. "We should bring them food. They're probably hungry, you know?"

Kiku found himself nodding dumbly again. Feliciano lit up and smiled.

"Yay! That's great! Maybe we could all meet each other!" Feliciano paused for a second. "Oh, wait, maybe not today. I mean, they're both probably tired, right? Maybe we should do it tomorrow." He brightened again. "Yeah, we should do it tomorrow!"

Kiku honestly had no idea what Feliciano was talking about, but he still smiled despite it. He vaguely recalled a meeting...? Whatever it was, Feliciano obviously had a way of making it sound like the most exciting thing in the world, and honestly, he envied it.

"That's going to be so fun! Then we could all be friends together." Feliciano beamed. "There's so many new people here, we could meet them all be friends! Wouldn't that be great?"

...Okay, that type of meeting wasn't exactly what Kiku was used to, but maybe he would make an exception.


End file.
